


i need your help

by empressfall



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, Homecoming Dance, Painting, Popular!Natasha, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rumlow and Rollins and Murdock are the asshole trio, bucky wanda maria and pietro are cool bros too, tony sharon pepper clint sam and thor are cool bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 12:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressfall/pseuds/empressfall
Summary: natasha romanoff is definitely out of his league. no one would question that. but fast forward three weeks later...





	i need your help

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning: fluffy fics are not really my thing but i TRIED. 
> 
> thank you for clicking on this one-shot and i hope you guys like it! i really hope it's not cringy. i, personally, don't think it is, but who knows.

Steve Rogers is in the middle of eating his ham and cheese sandwich when someone slams their backpack down on the table that he’s sitting at and says, “I need your help.”

The force of the slam causes him to choke for a few seconds before he swallows his food. He looks up and is taken aback to see Natasha Romanoff looking back at him with an impatient expression on her face. 

He clears his throat as a million thoughts rush inside his head. Why was Natasha Romanoff, the most popular girl at Shield High School, talking to him? This is quite the unusual Monday morning for him. “M- _my_ help?” He wants to slap himself for sounding so cringy.

“Yeah,” Natasha says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Aren’t you Steve Rogers?” She looks over her shoulder and exchanges a quick glance with Clint Barton, her stepbrother, who’s sitting across the cafeteria with their friends. 

Steve nods, probably a bit more excessively than necessary. He sets his sandwich down. “Yes, I am. I… _um_ … what do you need my help for?”

“A painting,” Natasha says, suddenly sounding a bit anxious, “You’re one hell of a painter, I heard.”

Steve feels his throat constrict for a moment as he tries to think of where she’s going with this. “That… might be a bit of an overstatement but I do paint. _Um_. I don’t think I’m, uh, like _van Gogh_ but I—”

“Can you fix a ruined painting?” She interrupts him.

From the corner of his eye, he can see his best friend, Bucky Barnes, looking at him and Natasha a dozen feet away. He looks confused. Steve feels the same.

“ _Um_ … it depends? How, uh, how bad is it?” Steve wishes he could quit stuttering but girls like Natasha Romanoff don’t talk to guys like _him_ , especially in public where literally everybody in their grade could see. He can feel people’s eyes on them.

Natasha reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She flashes the screen in his face and points to the picture of the painting. “My dad bought this painting in an auction last month and I, uh, accidentally messed it up on Saturday.”

She swipes the screen to show what the painting currently looked like and Steve’s jaw drops. When she sees the look on his face, she sighs. “I know, I know. It’s bad.”

“May I ask what you did to that landscape?” Steve asks with his eyes widened. “Are you sure that’s even the same painting?”

“There was a situation,” Natasha replies with a groan, “but that’s not important right now. Right now, I need your help. I need you to fix the painting for me before my dad and my stepmom come back from their business trip in three weeks.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but Natasha keeps talking. “I’ll pay you. I’ll give you $600.”

He feels his throat dry up. $600 would definitely help him pay for a new laptop. He had accidentally destroyed his old Macbook when he dropped it down the stairs a few weeks ago. He could definitely use the money, but he isn’t sure if he can fix the painting.

“Listen, I know that we don’t talk, like, at all and this is _really_ random and I would try to get it done somewhere professionally in Manhattan or Brooklyn but I’ve heard that you’re the best at Shield and this would be the most convenient so _please?_ ” Her beautiful green eyes plead at him and Steve’s finding it hard to turn her down.

“I can try but I’m no Renoir. I can’t guarantee you that it’ll look perfect,” Steve warns her. 

Natasha responds, “I trust that you can do it.” She clearly isn’t going to take no for an answer. 

Steve blinks. “I… then… I’ll do it. Yes. I’ll do it.”

“ _Thank God_.” Natasha sighs in relief. “Thank you so much.” She holds her phone out to him. “ _Here_. Put your number in. I’ll text you to come pick it up tonight.”

Steve puts his phone number in, but before he can say anything, Natasha grabs her phone and backpack and hurries back to her table. He looks around himself and sees that the people had turned around and stopped staring at him. 

“What was that about?” Pietro Maximoff asks as he takes a seat next to him.

Bucky Barnes and Wanda Maximoff, Pietro’s twin sister, sit down across from them. Maria Hill sits on the other end of the table. 

“She said she ruined a painting her dad bought and she needs me to fix it,” Steve responds, picking his sandwich back up.

“She looked pretty frantic,” Maria notes. 

“She was,” Steve replies, “She offered to pay me $600.”

Wanda looks shocked. “Well, you said yes, right?”

Steve nods. “Of course. I need a new laptop. The painting’s not exactly simple _but_ … I could probably crank it out.”

Bucky snorts in amusement. “Now is the time to work on college applications, Steve. You’re gonna spend time doing Natasha Romanoff’s dirty work?” He pauses for a moment and then says, “Well, I suppose for $600, why not?”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Steve reasons. “Besides, I’m applying to art schools. Having some practice won’t suck while I put my portfolio together.”

“Good luck with that,” Pietro says, patting him on the back. “You don’t want to disappoint the Queen Bee of the school.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, we’ll see.”

* * *

The painting looks worse in person. Steve doesn’t even try to hide his horrified expression when Natasha presents it to him in the foyer of her brownstone. 

“Still think you can do it?” Natasha asks, after seeing the look on his face. 

Steve takes a deep breath and looks over the painting. “Well… the three weeks will definitely help. I can do it.” He nodded.

Natasha runs a hand through her curly red locks. “Okay, _perfect!_ ” She hands the painting to him. “You’re a lifesaver, Rogers.”

“Happy to help,” Steve says, as he puts the painting inside a trash bag to make it easier to transport. “I’ll, uh, text you updates if… if you want.”

“That’d be great,” Natasha says, “That— Tony _fucking_ Stark, _oh my God_ , finally!”

Steve looks behind him and sees Tony through the glass of the front door. 

Natasha rushes to the door and swings it open. “You know, when you say that you’re gonna have my food by 5. I expect it to come by 5. Not 5:10.”

Tony scoffs. “The traffic in New York City is awful. Even in Brooklyn, ginger head.” He hands her the brown paper bag and glances over at Steve. “ _Rogers?_ You hang out with Rogers now?” It doesn’t sound insulting, but Steve still feels awkward.

“The painting, Tony. Remember?” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Oh, _right_ ,” Tony says with a laugh. “Truly one of your best moments. I wish you the best of luck, Rogers, because that painting is _beyond_ fucked.”

“Thank you,” Steve says. He wasn’t sure what else there was to say. 

“By the way, Romanoff, Pepper said that she wanted to run by Homecoming decorations with you tomorrow. I don’t remember what time she said, but go ask her, okay?” Tony says as he heads back to the front door.

Natasha snorts. “Gotcha, Tony. See ya.”

“See ya.”

Natasha turns to him. “Sorry about Stark. He can be a bit of an asshole sometimes. It’s ingrained in his personality.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s no problem. He’s not the worst person at Shield.”

The bearer of that title has three options: Brock Rumlow, Matt Murdock, and Jack Rollins. They’re a trio of probably the most awful people Steve has ever interacted with and it seemed like they get worse every time he sees them.

“ _True_ ,” Natasha says, “He could be Murdock.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “Well, good luck with the painting. Thanks for being a lifesaver.”

Steve’s curious as to why Natasha looks unimpressed about Matt. He could have sworn they were dating. He doesn’t press her for answers, because, _duh_ , they’re not close at all and instead, says goodbye to her and leaves. 

* * *

Three days pass by and Steve hates the painting. The dry paint is annoying him because it’s not making his job any easier. He sighs and stands up, leaving his desk to lay on his bed. 

Time to get back to his AP English homework. He had opted to work on the painting so that he could procrastinate on his essay, but after dealing with that _devil_ of a painting, he’d rather write. 

It’s not a difficult essay topic. It’s just that he hasn’t read a single page of “Passage to India” and therefore, he doesn’t know what to write for his essay. That, in his opinion, is a fair excuse to avoid it.

One hour later, he’s halfway done with the first paragraph when his phone starts ringing. He frowns, wondering who would be calling him. Steve isn’t much of a talker on the phone. He likes texting because the other people don’t hear him being awkward. 

He’s surprised when he sees that it’s Natasha calling. “Hello?”

“Steve, are you busy?”

Steve looks at his screen and he knows that, technically, he is busy but he isn’t in the mood to pull up SparkNotes or actually try to locate the copy of his book, which he has zero idea where it could be. “No. Why?”

“Are you working on the painting?”

Steve wonders if she’s messing with him. He wonders if her first question was a trick question. “I… I _was_ , but then I decided to try to get on this AP English essay and—”

“Can you come over?” Natasha interrupts him.

Steve almost drops his phone. “You want me to come over?”

Natasha responds, “That’s what I said.” 

“ _Uh_ … why? Do you need something?” This is weird. He and Natasha Romanoff are not friends. Honestly, until she approached him three days ago, he wouldn’t have thought that she knew his name.

He and Natasha are on opposite ends of the social spectrum and they’re completely different people. He has no idea why she’s calling him. He has no idea why they’re interacting.

“Pepper and I are currently trying to pick out themes for the Homecoming Dance and she and I are having issues. You have an artistic eye so I need you,” Natasha replies. 

“Can’t you just send me pictures of whatever you have planned?” Steve asks. It’s not like he wants to turn her down but this is just so unusual that he’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to act.

“Pepper won’t believe me if I tell her that you said that you think my idea is better over text. Which, by the way, it _is_ ,” Natasha said. She paused for a second and added, “If you haven’t had dinner yet, we have food. You can have whatever you want.”

Steve is baffled. Natasha wants him to come over and help him and she’s offering _food?_ What the hell kind of parallel universe has he stepped into? “Uh… I… yeah, _sure_. Um… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“ _Thank the lord_ ,” Natasha says, sounding relieved. “Thanks, Rogers.”

“Yeah, of course.” What a random Thursday night.

* * *

The inside of Natasha’s brownstone smells amazing. Whatever food she has, Steve bets it’s delicious. He enters her house and is taken aback by how noisy it is.

“Stark, you are _such_ a self-absorbed asshole and I’m gonna shove this spoon up your ass!”

“ _Sharon!_ ”

“ _What, Sam?!_ ”

“You guys are _so_ fucking annoying.”

“Who took a bite of my kebab?”

“You took my ponchiki, you _bastard_. Give it back, Clint!”

“ _Oh_ , like you need any more food, you _Scandinavian_ —”

Natasha rolls her eyes and exclaims, “Can you guys shut up? Steve is here.” She turns to him and sighs. “I’m sorry. They’re incredibly annoying.”

“No worries,” Steve says, trying not to feel intimidated. 

He’s in Natasha Romanoff’s house and it seems that all of her super popular friends are there with her. He thought it was just gonna be her and Pepper. 

Thor Odinson almost backs into him as he enters the kitchen. He turns around and looks at Steve. “Steve Rogers! _Hello!_ ”

Steve knows that out of Natasha’s little clique, Thor is the nicest and most approachable so his greeting doesn’t necessarily surprise him. “Hi.”

Pepper Potts lets out a gasp. “ _Oh my God_ , Nat. You actually had him come over.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Gotta do what I gotta do.” Natasha shrugs. She motions for Steve to follow her to the kitchen island. “This is all Russian food. I made it all, despite what Clint claims. There’s beef stroganoff and shashlik which are kebabs and vinegret, it’s a salad. I made plenty because the boys eat like twice their body weight. _Fatasses_.”

She points to a tray that’s half empty and half covered in donuts. “Ponchiki. Russian donuts.” She picks one up and takes a bite. “They’re absolutely delicious. Help yourself to whatever you want. Water’s over there.”

Clint hands him a plate but doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone.

Steve lets out a weak “Thank you” as he looks at the impressive spread of food. He’s thankful that all of Natasha’s friends have focused their attention elsewhere because being in the presence of all of them is making him feel nervous.

He scoops a chunk of the beef stroganoff onto his plate, grabs one kebab, and a chunk of the vinegret as well. He decides to grab a donut later. He doesn’t want his beef touching the sugary dessert. 

“Come here when you’re ready,” Pepper says to him as he grabs a bottle of water. She motions for him to join him and Natasha in the living room.

Steve nods and nervously ambles his way over to the two ladies. They’re sitting on the sofa, peering over a display of photos on the coffee table. 

Natasha takes a sip from her water bottle and explains to him, “Sharon dropped out of the Homecoming Committee because she’s a _bitch_ —”

“I have other things to do!” Sharon yelps from the kitchen table.

“Like fucking Sam, we know,” Pepper says, rolling her eyes.

Sharon shouts, “ _Oh_ , don’t act like you and Tony aren’t rabbits when it comes to—”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Natasha interrupts her loudly, “Sharon actually does have other things to do. She’s planning the whole parade instead, which I don’t know why the _hell_ she’s doing that, but I digress. It was supposed to be the three of us planning the dance because three means there’ll always be a majority when it comes to decision making. Pep and I were able to narrow down themes but we can’t decide between the last two. We like both themes but the designs, themselves, aren’t sitting well with us.”

Steve swallows the hunk of beef he had been chewing on and clears his throat. “What exactly are you asking me to do? Just pick between the two?”

“Well, like I said,” Natasha replies, “You have an artistic vision. Advise us on what we should do.”

Steve looks at the photos and raises a brow. “So, I’m gonna assume that the two themes are Alice in Wonderland and, _uh_ , is this Swan Lake?”

“ _Mhmm_ ,” Pepper says, with a nod, “They’re not the most creative themes, but they’re not as basic as Paris or the 20s.”

“I suppose.” Steve has no idea.

“So, here’s the thing,” Natasha says, as she gets up from where she’s sitting and joins him on the sofa.

Steve feels goosebumps on his arms from being so close to her. He can smell her perfume and it’s a lovely scent.

“I like Alice and Pepper likes the ballet, but everything we’ve found on Pinterest isn’t meeting our needs,” Natasha continues. She picks up a photo of an animated Alice sitting at the table with the Mad Hatter. “How would we decorate the gym with Alice? It’s not like Under the Sea or, I don’t fucking know, Hollywood, where all we have to do is put blue paper on the wall or put shimmery lights and a red carpet on the floor.”

Steve pauses and says, “I’m not a decorator, though.” He takes the picture from her hands. 

Natasha says, singsongy, looking over his shoulder, “Artistic vision.”

“ _Right_ ,” Steve says, feeling her hot breath on his neck. “Well, I guess you could…”

* * *

It’s Saturday afternoon and Steve is in the middle of writing a supplement essay for his application to the Rhode Island School of Design when his doorbell rings. His mom isn’t home so Steve sets his laptop aside and makes his way to the door.

“Hey guys. What are you doing here?” He moves aside to let Bucky, Wanda, Pietro, and Maria come in.

“We’re bored and you said your house was always open when we needed to do schoolwork,” Wanda says, heading towards the kitchen. “Do you have snacks, Steve?”

“ _Uh_ , I don’t know. There—”

“Ooh, donuts!” Wanda squeals in the kitchen. “Steve, did you make these yourself?” She closes his fridge and shows everyone the plate of donuts covered in plastic wrap.

Pietro snorted in amusement. “Wanda, Steve’s area of expertise is on a canvas, not in the kitchen.”

“That is true.” Wanda nods as Steve rolls his eyes and leads them into his living room.

“What kind of donuts are those?” Maria asks as she settles in an armchair with her laptop. 

Steve replies while scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, they have cottage cheese in them.”

Bucky frowns. “Cottage cheese? In _donuts?_ ”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re Russian.”

“What possessed you to purchase Russian donuts? What’s wrong with regular glazed?” Pietro asks while grabbing a donut from the plate.

“I didn’t buy them. Natasha gave them to me,” Steve says. The words come out before he realizes what he just said.

Everyone stops what they’re doing to look at him.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Romanoff? _Natasha Romanoff_ gave you donuts? I thought she was just giving you $600.”

“Yeah, no. The donuts have nothing to do with that,” Steve replies, feeling alarmed at the way his friends are looking at him. “I just helped her and Pepper Potts with some designs for the Homecoming dance decorations and then she offered me donuts.”

Maria raises an eyebrow. “ _Interesting_.”

Steve’s cheeks feel hot and his chest tightens. “Oh my God, _guys_ , it’s nothing. Stop looking at me like _that_.” He grabs a donut and takes a big bite. 

“Didn’t you have a crush on her in like the third grade?” Wanda asks, as she aggressively types on her Macbook.

“I think _everyone_ had a crush on her at one point,” Pietro says. “At least, everyone with half of a brain.”

“I remember,” Bucky says. “He shared his graham crackers with her on the playground.” He chuckles. “That was before everyone got all cliquey.”

Steve sighs. “Do you guys have a point to make or can we all actually go back to trying to get into college?”

Maria cocks her head and looks at him. “Not really. It’s just interesting. I mean, it’s very random.”

“She just needed a favor. That’s all,” Steve says, defensively.

“Then, _exactly_ ,” Wanda says. “No offense, Steve, but sometimes you let your emotions get the best of you. Don’t, like, fall in love with her during these three weeks.”

“ _Uh_ … don’t worry about me.” Steve’s brows furrow. “I understand.”

Pietro doesn’t look like he particularly believes him and shrugs. “Alright. I need all of you to list my top qualities so that I can write this essay.”

* * *

It’s Wednesday and Steve’s inclined to believe that he’s actually making progress with this _godforsaken_ painting. He’s sitting in one of the art rooms at school during his study hall, carefully comparing the painting to the photo of the original that Natasha texted him.

He wets his paintbrush and is about to dip it into his palette when the door opens. “Thought I’d find you here.”

Steve looks up and sees Clint walking towards him, with a curious expression on his face. “ _Um_. Hello.”

“What’s up, Rogers?” Clint says as he stops behind him. He glances at the painting and squints at the work that Steve has done over it. “ _Wow_.” He lets out a low whistle. “You’re doing pretty good. I honestly thought the painting was a lost cause when Tasha first showed it to me. You really have a gift.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, as he strokes his paintbrush in a chunk of green paint. 

When Clint doesn’t say anything or leave, Steve awkwardly pauses. “ _Um_. Do you, um, do you need something?”

Clint pulls a chair from a neighboring table and takes a seat a few feet away from him. “No. I just have study hall and I’m not in the mood to do any actual work.”

Steve tries not to frown. “So, you chose to come here?”

“I’m bored,” Clint replies, without a care in the world. He rests his feet on the wall. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Steve says, unsure of what to do. This is too awkward for him and he isn’t particularly sure if he can trust Clint Barton to be around him alone. This is the first time he’s ever actually spoken to him, so it makes sense to Steve to be wary. Guys like Clint that hung out with girls like Natasha didn’t voluntarily approach or speak to guys like Steve.

“I have a question for you,” Clint drawls, as he scrolls through his phone, not bothering to look at Steve.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Um. Yes?”

“What do you think of Matt Murdock?”

Steve almost loses his grip on his paintbrush. “What?”

“Murdock,” Clint repeats. “What’s your opinion on him?”

Steve has to be careful here. He knows that Clint is or was decently well-acquainted with Matt since Natasha had (has?) a thing with him. He also knows that Matt Murdock is the biggest asshole in New York City. He feels that he’s walking on eggshells because there’s a possibility that Clint really is tight with Matt and he’ll snitch if Steve says something bad.

Clint seems to notice the deer in the headlights expression on Steve’s face and assures him, “I’m not his friend. Not anymore.”

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the painting. “Well… he’s stolen my inhaler more times than I can count on my fingers and toes… He’s always been… _mean_. I don’t like him.” 

“ _Thank God_ ,” Clint sighs in relief. “I can use that against Natasha the next time we get into an argument about him.” 

He sees the inquisitive glance on Steve’s face and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Murdock’s just a piece of shit.” 

“I can vouch for that,” Steve speaks up.

Clint chuckles, with an amused smile on his face. “I bet. I’m gonna kick it back here for a little while if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

* * *

Study Hall is almost over and Steve puts the painting in his shelf in the art room. He’s heading towards the exit to have some extra time before class starts when he hears two people arguing in one of the empty art rooms.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He hears Matt Murdock exclaim.

“With _me?_ What about _you_ , you asshole!” Natasha shouts back at him. 

“Why are you still ignoring me? You said you would give us a chance again.”

“Yeah, I _did_ , before you fucked Elektra again. You know she was gossiping about it during Government? She’s under the impression that you two are gonna date again.” Natasha sounds pissed.

Matt let out a groan. “Are you _really_ gonna believe the bullshit coming out of her mouth?”

Natasha’s tone slightly lowers as she replies, “She knows that you have a new tattoo of your mom’s initials on your upper thigh. Unless you walk around naked, how else would she know that? She knows exactly what it looks like.”

Steve squirms.

There’s a moment of silence before Matt sighs. “Listen, Nat—”

“ _Fuck off_ ,” Natasha interrupts him. “I’m serious, Matt.”

“I made a mistake,” Matt tries to reason. “I slept with her after I got the tattoo but that was weeks ago. I’m focused on _you_ and _only_ you. Elektra is still hung up on me. That’s all.”

“I don’t think I can believe you.”

“Nat… _come on_.”

Natasha huffs. “Just leave me alone, Matt. Let me think. Bothering me isn’t going to help your case at all.”

Matt sighs. “Okay. _Alright_. I’ll give you some space, but you’re still my date to homecoming, right?”

Natasha replies, icily, “To be determined.” She walks away and Steve starts to panic when her footsteps get louder, meaning that she is coming closer towards him. 

Steve immediately backs into the corner and pretends to be looking at something on his phone. He tries not to react in any way when he senses Natasha passing by him.

“Rogers? Why are you just hanging in a corner?”

Steve blinks and looks up from his phone. “My, uh, my mom texted me.” He scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says. “Just… taking a walk.” 

Steve opens his mouth to respond when the bell rings. The sound of doors opening and students leaving classrooms becomes prominent. “Well, I better go—”

“You’re in my Calculus class,” Natasha says like a statement rather than a question. “Walk with me?”

Steve swallows his breath. “Uh… I… yeah, sure.” He feels his cheeks heat up.

“Okay, cool,” Natasha says, lightly. “Come on.”

They walk side by side in the hallway and Steve can feel people staring at him, confused as to why someone like Natasha was walking with someone like him. He wonders if people remember how Natasha approached him in the cafeteria last week. He hopes they don’t think anything weird of it.

“Did you like the ponchiki?” Natasha asks, interrupting him from his thoughts.

“I- I did,” Steve responds, with a nod. “They were really good. You have quite the baking skills.”

Natasha smiles and Steve feels a bit triumphant. “Thanks. I’m nowhere as good as my mother was.”

“Well, at least you got some skills from your mom,” Steve says, “I got none. I am absolutely horrible in the kitchen. I don’t think I can do anything more labor-intensive than scrambled eggs.”

Natasha laughs and Steve feels even more triumphant. “It’s because you’re a boy… _Kidding_. We don’t do sexism.”

“No, we don’t.” Steve’s lips curl into a small smile. 

“Hmph. Oh, by the way, thanks for your input again for Homecoming. Pepper and I decided to go with Swan Lake,” Natasha says. “Primarily because I know more about ballet than she does about Alice in Wonderland.”

Steve replies, truthfully, “I’m glad I could help you.”

“Now, obviously, you have to admire the decorations that Pepper and I put up since they were practically your idea. You’re going to the dance, right?” 

The Homecoming dance is next Saturday, the day after Steve’s supposed to be finished with the painting and to be honest, he had no plans to attend at all. He knew that Bucky and Wanda were going together (to his surprise) and so were Maria and Pietro ( _extremely_ surprising), but he didn’t have any interest in going. Even if he did, he didn’t have a date.

“I don’t think I am,” Steve admits and he hopes that Natasha isn’t looking at him.

“ _Aw_ , why not?” Natasha asks. “I mean, I know that dances can get annoying, but you know, the first like thirty minutes are fun. Being with your friends is always great.”

They turn a corner and Steve uses those five seconds to try to come up with a response that isn’t lame. “I just… _well_ , carrying my inhaler around doesn’t sound fun at all and I… I don’t have a date either.”

Natasha flashes him a look of disbelief. “You’re telling me that no one snatched you yet? Steve Rogers, probably the nicest person I have ever spoken to?”

Steve just shrugs in response and he resists the urge to run far away. This conversation is on the borderline of making him feel a tad bit embarrassed. 

“ _Wow_ ,” Natasha says, “Girls here are dumb. They’re missing out.” She smiles at him as they enter their classroom.

Steve is blushing like an idiot and spends all of class lost in thought. 

* * *

He’s having a pretty good day until the end of lunch until Jack Rollins and Brock Rumlow steal his inhaler and play Monkey in the Middle with it. 

Bucky and Pietro already left for class. Wanda has a club meeting and Maria’s absent because she’s sick so Steve had been alone in the cafeteria when Jack and Brock approached him. 

“Very cool thing you got here, Rogers,” Rollins snickers, as he tosses it to Rumlow. “Thanks for letting us play with it.”

Steve tries to interject. “ _Stop_ —”

“It’s a nice toy,” Rumlow says, throwing it like a baseball towards Rollins’ hands. “I heard these cost _quite_ a bit though.”

Yeah. They _do_. Which is why Steve is pissed that it’s been taken from him again. The last thing he needs is to put a burden on his mom to get him a new one.

“Give it back,” Steve says as loudly as he could muster. He tries not to quiver under all the intimidating attention he’s getting in the cafeteria.

Rollins and Rumlow exchanged glances. The latter walks up to him, dangling his inhaler in his face. Rumlow snatches it back before Steve can attempt to take it. “You know what? I don’t really want to.” He looks over his shoulder. “Do you, Rollins?”

“Not really,” Rollins replies, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Rogers,” Rumlow says, as he takes a step back. “Thanks for the gift.”

“You guys are _so_ pathetic,” Natasha says behind them. Her arms are crossed and she looks very much unimpressed. 

She looks to her right and says aloud, “Matt, is this really what you and your stupid friends get up to?”

Matt squints. “I’m not involved with this, Nat.”

“Maybe you aren’t physically doing it but I know you and I’m pretty damn sure you initiated it.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Now, you’re just being unfair—”

“Does this really bring you any satisfaction?” Natasha turns her attention back to Rollins and Rumlow. “Are you guys really that bored with your lives that you have to mess with—”

Rollins interrupts her, “Since when do you care? You’ve been on and off with Matt for like three years and you’ve put up with our shit for that long.”

Natasha shrugs. “We all do dumb things.” She edges towards Rumlow and plucks the inhaler out of his grip. “I’ll be taking that, thank you very much.”

“You’re being an uptight _bitch_ , Romanoff,” Rumlow calls out to her. “What’s your deal?”

“Just that you and your friends are really pieces of _shit_ , Rumlow,” Natasha replies, flashing an insincere smile at them. “And I’m _so_ fucking exhausted of it.”

Rumlow scoffs and turns to Steve. “ _Wow_ , Rogers. You really need a girl to solve your problems for you? That’s—”

With all the energy he can muster, Steve punches Rumlow square in the jaw. He doesn’t expect to get a good hit, but he’s proven wrong when he hears Rumlow let out a groan.

Rumlow takes a step back as he clutches his jaw. Rollins looks like he’s at a loss of words. Everyone else has similar expressions on his face.

Steve looks at Natasha and sees an impressed smirk on her face. Behind her, Sharon takes a photo of Rumlow as she laughs at the injury on his jaw. Tony, Thor, Pepper, Jane, Sam, and Clint all looked proud. 

“Nice one,” Natasha says to him, “I always thought you’d blow up one day.”

To Steve’s luck, no one snitches and none of the teachers suspect that anything happened in the cafeteria. The last thing he needs is to worry his mother with a detention or a possible suspension on his record right during the college application season. 

His friends are quite impressed with him, though. Bucky’s proud of him for standing up for himself. Wanda suggests that they all get ice cream after school to celebrate and Pietro gladly drives them to their favorite parlor in Brooklyn.

During the drive, he sees Natasha outside the window and she flashes a smile at him as he passes by.

* * *

Steve is impressed with the amount of progress he's made on the painting by the time Tuesday rolls around. It looks almost identical to how it originally looked and the paint doesn't look too chunky or heavy on the canvas.

He's sitting in Study Hall, glancing over it and deciding that he's done enough painting for the day. Twenty minutes is enough for him. He's in the middle of cleaning his paintbrushes when the door opens and Natasha walks into the art room. 

"Hey, Steve."

Steve almost drops the paintbrushes in the sink. He looks over his shoulder. "H-Hi."

"You don't mind if I join you, do you?" 

"No, go ahead," Steve says, but Natasha's already settling into a chair at one of the large tables.

"Clint says you've been working on the painting in here," Natasha says, as she turns her laptop on.

Steve nods as he puts the paintbrushes where they belong. "I have. I was just working on it, but I'm making good process and I'm on track to finish by Friday so I decided to actually work on my college applications."

Natasha lets out a laugh that's like music to his ears. "Yeah, you should get on that." She pauses and adds, "I'm sorry if this painting has taken up a lot of your time. I know that we're all busy during times like this."

"It's not a problem," Steve says assuringly as he turns to face her. "I love to paint. It's calming, especially during such a stressful time."

"That's good," Natasha says, with a soft smile on her face. "I'm glad... So, what are you gonna work on now?"

"My AP English essay," Steve replies, as he reaches into his backpack to pull out his laptop and a copy of "Anna Karenina". "I procrastinated on 'Passage to India' so it'll probably be good for me to at least try to get some outline work done for 'Anna Karenina'... even though I haven't read a single page of it."

Natasha looks at him with a shocked expression on her face. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

Steve shakes and looks at her. "I'm sorry?"

Natasha laughs. "I didn't mean to startle you, but are you serious? You haven't read that book at _all?_ "

"I haven't," Steve admits with a blush. "Reading... _well_... I don't read as much as I probably should."

"Yeah, I understand that. I relate," Natasha says, "but come on. 'Anna Karenina' is a masterpiece. A _Russian_ masterpiece. I recommend you read it. Russian literature is great." 

Steve had forgotten that there was that connection there. "Oh, _right_. You'd be the expert on that."

"Well, of course," Natasha says, tilting her head to the side. "I embrace my Russian culture very much." She pauses to grab her backpack, "Speaking of Russian culture, I have some pastilas. They're like pressed fruit pastries." She pulls out a Tupperware container and opens it. The smell is amazing. "Here, try one."

Steve takes one from her and bites into it. "Mmm. These are delicious."

"Glad you think so," Natasha says, as she grabs one for herself. "My mom always told me that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach."

Steve feels his cheeks heat up, especially when he catches the widening grin on her face. That's when he realizes that he's absolutely fucked because he might actually have deep feelings for her.

"Eat up, Steve," Natasha instructs him, "You need to read 'Anna Karenina' and that takes some energy."

Yeah. He's definitely catching feelings.

* * *

It's Friday and Steve is glad that he's done with the painting. He doesn't want to sound arrogant but the painting definitely looks identical to what it originally looked like. 

"I am _invincible_. I am the God of Art. I am—"

"Yeah, okay, _Michelangelo_ , I'm proud of you, but come on. We gotta get going," Bucky says from the doorway.

Steve turns around and rolls his eyes. "I don't know why you all are so insistent on going to the parade. It's like 95% the same as it was last year. And the year before that. And the year before that."

"Have some school spirit," Wanda says, as she stands next to Bucky. "Come on, Steve."

"We gotta wait until Natasha's here to pick it up," Steve reminds them.

Pietro opens his mouth, probably to make a snarky remark when they hear a car pull up in front of Steve's house. 

"Must be her," Maria mutters, not bothering to look up from her phone. 

Steve walks to the door and opens it, just when Natasha was about to knock. Her fist is in the air and Steve flinches.

"Oh, _sorry!_ " Natasha says, drawing her fist back. "I was gonna knock."

Steve shakes his head. "It's my fault." He lets out an awkward chuckle. "Come on in. The painting's waiting for you."

Natasha sighs in relief and follows him to the living room. "Thanks so much. _Oh my God_. My dad and stepmom come back tomorrow morning." She waves hello to Maria, Wanda, Pietro, and Bucky as she passes by them.

Her eyes widen when she sees the painting. "Steve, you're _amazing!_ It looks perfect!"

Steve's heart warms at the compliment. "Thank you."

"You are the _best_ person ever!" Natasha exclaims and she pulls him into a hug that he was not expecting at all. 

He finds his head buried in her red curls that smell amazing. He warms in her embrace and hugs her back. To his relief, it doesn't feel too awkward or forced at all. He's quite enjoying it.

Natasha lets go and reaches into her pocket. "$600 as promised."

Steve takes the wad of cash and sticks it in his wallet. "Thank you, thank you. I would have done it for less if you offered less."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying you'll give me $599 back?" She lets out a giggle that Steve has never heard from her. " _Kidding_. No, you deserve all $600. I know I definitely fucked that painting up and you spent all that time trying to fix it. I couldn't be any more grateful."

"It was nothing," Steve shrugs it off, but he's really feeling so proud of himself, knowing that Natasha is ecstatic because of him. 

Natasha takes the painting and puts it inside a large plastic bag to secure it. She looks around at Steve and his friends and asks, "Are you guys coming to the parade?"

"Yeah," Pietro says with a nod.

"Oh, _good!_ " Natasha says, "Sharon's been working really hard to make the parade different than usual so she'll be so happy to see people there. Even people that she's not particularly close to. I guess I'll see you guys there."

"See ya, Romanoff," Bucky says, as Natasha exits the living room. Out of the five of them, Bucky is the most confident so he's the only one that would be likely to speak to a popular person like Natasha. 

Steve follows Natasha towards the door and his friends trail behind him. "See you, Natasha," he says to her.

Natasha smiles at him. "See you. Hope to see you at the dance, too."

"I can't promise you that," Steve says with a chuckle.

Natasha makes the puppy dog eyes and shrugs. "Well, you have time to decide." She waves goodbye to them and heads to her car.

Steve watches as she drives off. He turns around and sees all of his friends looking at him with smirks on their faces. "What?"

" _Dude_ ," Pietro exclaims, before laughing, "You are so into her."

"You're smitten," Maria teases him. She walks up to Steve and grabs his cheeks, rubbing them like a grandma would. "It's so _cuuuute_."

"You guys suck," Steve says with a sigh. "Come on. Let's go to this parade."

Wanda grabs onto Steve's shoulders. "Yeah, let's get to this parade so you can spend more time with Na—"

"I hate you guys," Steve grumbles, as he leads them out of his house.

* * *

The parade is actually a lot more fun than Steve had expected. Natasha hadn't been wrong when she said that Sharon was working hard to make it different. The floats are all decorated really creatively and the music and entertainment are definitely superior to the past parades. It also helps that all the free food was amazing. 

To no one's surprise, Tony and Pepper are voted Homecoming King and Queen. They're on the most lavish float and are dressed really elegantly. Tony looks wealthy and prestigious (as usual) in his dress shirt and tie. Pepper's wearing a beautiful green dress.

What really catches Steve's eye, however, is the entertainment behind Tony and Pepper. Behind them on their float, Sharon and Natasha are dancing. Sharon's definitely beautiful, but he's drawn to Natasha as she dances on the float. She's definitely a talented dancer and Steve feels like he's in a trance as he watches her move gracefully.

" _So_ in love," Pietro whispers into his ear.

"I am not!" Steve insists, but his focus remains on Natasha.

"You know, three weeks ago, I would have thought that she was out of your league, but now, she might actually kinda like you," Wanda says, in between licking her ice cream.

Steve shakes his head. "You two are reading too much into this. If anything, she and I are just... _friends_."

"Yeah, right," Clint says from behind them. Natasha's stepbrother approaches them with a plate of chips in his hands. He looks at Steve and scoffs. " _Just friends_ , my ass."

"It's completely platonic," Steve says. "We literally have spoken like less than ten times."

"Like that matters," Sam adds, coming up from behind Clint. "Sharon and I spoke less than ten times before we started our friends with—"

"Okay, _shut it_ , Wilson," Clint says, holding up his hand to silence him. He turns back to Steve. "I'm not saying that she's like deeply in love with you because nothing can beat her love for Russian cuisine, _but_... I think she kinda likes you. Maybe like 80% platonic but 20% not."

Sam shrugs. "Who knows? There could be something there."

"Isn't she going to Homecoming with Murdock?" Steve asks, suddenly remembering that.

Clint immediately lets out a groan. "Probably. She can be a dumbass at times, but just... keep it in mind that I spend the most time with Natasha, since I'm her stepbrother. I know her and from what I can tell, she definitely thinks highly of you." He pats him on the back. "So, good luck with that, Rogers."

He motions for Sam to follow him. "Come on, Wilson. Let's get drinks."

The two clear out of their way towards the food trucks.

" _Interesting_ ," Maria says, with a wicked grin on her face.

"She's out of my league," Steve says, simply.

"I'd punch you for being an idiot, but there's not enough stuff in there to protect you," Bucky jokes, patting Steve on the chest.

Steve rolls his eyes.

* * *

It's Saturday afternoon and the day of the Homecoming dance. Maria and Bucky are at Wanda and Pietro's house to get ready. Steve, on the other hand, is laying on his couch, watching an episode of "House Hunters" with his mother, Sarah. In his opinion, "House Hunters" is one of the greatest television shows of all time, even if it may be fake.

He's in the middle of putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave when his doorbell rings.

"Steve, can you get that?" His mom asks from the living room.

Steve leaves the bag of popcorn on top of the microwave as he heads to the front door. He can see a flash of red hair through the door and his chest tightens.

Steve opens the door and sees Natasha Romanoff standing on his doorstep with her hair and makeup done. "Natasha?"

"Will you go to Homecoming with me?" She blurts out.

Steve freezes and starts poking his eardrums.

"Steve? What the _hell_ are you doing?" Natasha frowns.

" _Uh_... did I just hear you correctly? Did you just ask _me_ to go to the Homecoming dance with _you?_ " Steve is sure that he heard her wrong because there's no way in hell that Natasha _fucking_ Romanoff would want to go with him. He's Steve Rogers. He's skinny, shy, and boring compared to the guys that Natasha hangs out with him. He's not in her circle of popular friends and he's not like her outgoing, rich, and wild friends. Why would she want to go with _him?_

Natasha snickers. " _Oh my God_ , Steve. Yes, I'm asking you to go with me. I want you to be my date."

Steve blinks. "Okay... but _why?_ What happened to Murdock? Actually, wait, that's a dumb question."

" _Yeah_ ," Natasha says, as her nose wrinkles, "I ended things with him for good. He's an asshole. I know. I'm sorry he's treated you like shit for the past few years. So, yeah, definitely not going with him. He'll probably go with Elektra anyway."

Steve wets his lips with his tongue. "So, then why am I your next option? I-I mean there are probably _much_ better candidates for you, you know. Like tall guys with muscles and abs and with a great sense of humor and everything. L-like why would you wanna go with someone like me? I'm—"

"I don't want any other guy, Steve. I want you. I like you for who you are and I think it'd be fun to go with you," Natasha says, with a genuine smile on her face.

Steve can't believe it. Natasha Romanoff, a goddess in his eyes, wanted him to be her date. She could have anyone. She was the most beautiful girl at Shield High School, but, still, she wanted someone lanky and small like Steve. It just didn't seem real. 

"Are you... Are you sure?" Steve asks.

"Of course I am," Natasha says. "Now, you didn't answer me. Will you be my date?"

Steve makes random stuttering noises with his mouth before nodding. "Yes. _Yes!_ I'd love to."

Natasha's grin grows wider. "Great. Do you have clothes?"

"Yeah, yeah! I just... let me go get it," Steve says.

"Okay, good. You can just change at my house. Clint has like excess hair products or whatever if you want any of that."

Steve turns around and sees his mother standing in the foyer behind him. "Steve? Who's this?"

Steve blushes. He looks back at Natasha and then faces his mother again. "Um, mom, this is Natasha Romanoff."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Rogers," Natasha greets her politely in the doorway.

"Likewise," his mom says, motioning for her to come in. "Did I just hear that you and Steve are going to Homecoming together?"

Natasha nods.

His mom smiles as an excited expression appears on her face. "That's _amazing!_ Steve's never really been into school dances." She turns to him, "Steve, what are you doing? Hurry up and get your clothes! Get your nice tie! Don't get any of the wrinkled ones!" 

She turns to Natasha. "Wait, sweetheart, what color is your dress?"

"Royal blue."

"Get a royal blue tie!" His mom shouts. " _Come on!_ "

Natasha says, "Mrs. Rogers, you're welcome to come join me and my family at my house. My stepbrother and my friends are taking pictures at my house and I'd love for you to come join us. Steve can invite his friends too if he wants."

"I'd love that," Steve's mom smiles, as she grabs her phone.

Steve comes back, holding his change of clothes. 

"Let's do this," Natasha says, practically beaming as she leads Steve and his mother to her car. 

* * *

This is probably the weirdest thing that Steve's ever been through. He's taking Homecoming pictures with Bucky, Wanda, Pietro, Maria, Sharon, Sam, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Bobbi, Thor, Jane, and _Natasha_. It's a mix of people that he never expected together.

Natasha looks absolutely stunning in her blue dress and Steve's jaw had dropped when he first saw her completely dressed and ready. She clings on to him as they pose for photos. Steve feels like he's in a fantasy world and he's sure that his mom feels the same way considering how emotional she looks, seeing her son all dressed up. 

His mom meets Natasha's dad and stepmom. Steve meets them too and he's relieved that they're nice, approachable people. Natasha's dad even points out the beautiful painting hanging on their kitchen wall. "I got it at an auction. Isn't it a beauty?" Steve and Natasha chuckle quietly.

"You look gorgeous," Steve tells her as they enter the gymnasium an hour later, with his inhaler inside Natasha's clutch.

"You look handsome, too," Natasha says, with a wink.

Steve looks around and is amazed by how beautiful the decorations are. "You and Pepper did amazing with the gym."

"Well, we gotta give you some credit," Natasha says, nudging him. "It was _your_ artistic vision that got us here."

Steve ends up having a great time. They take photos in the photo booth and have some snacks before Natasha pulls him to the dancefloor and despite his initial shyness, he starts having fun. Natasha's an absolute vision on the dancefloor but she looks happiest when Steve is spinning her around. Natasha isn't even fazed when she sees Matt kissing Elektra a few feet away from them. 

The music eventually slows down and Steve finds himself slow dancing with Natasha. He's still dumbfounded that he gets to be this close to her. She's so beautiful up close and Steve still finds it so unbelievable that he's here as her date. Guys like him weren't supposed to be with girls like her.

"You know..." Steve says, quietly. "You never did tell me what you did to that painting. How did it get so messed up?"

Natasha giggles and Steve decides that it's one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. " _Well_... Clint and I were playing catch with a water balloon when I accidentally threw it too hard. Clint ducked and it hit the painting. And then I rushed over to get the water balloon off of it and tripped and dropped it on my ponchiki batter. It was pretty awful. Not only was the painting fucked up, but so was my ponchiki batter. I made a new batch the day you came over."

"Water balloon fight? In the house? Come on now, Natasha. You know better," Steve says, teasingly.

"I _do_ , but... if that never happened, we never would have talked," Natasha reminds him.

Steve rubs his lips together. "I'm sure you would have been just fine without me."

" _Not true_ ," Natasha says, shaking her head.

"I'm so out of your league," Steve says, truthfully.

"In your opinion," Natasha says. She leans in and kisses his lips. It's a soft kiss and Steve is taken aback because oh my God, Natasha is kissing him. In public. Where everyone can see. 

She pulls back and bites her lip. "But in _my_ opinion, you're perfect as you are and I really like you."

Steve immediately touches his lips. "I... I really like you too." Is this even real? Is this really happening to him?

Natasha's eyes glimmer and he's never thought that green could look so beautiful. " _Perfect_." She kisses him again. "I'm really glad I needed your help."

"Me too," Steve says, in utter disbelief. 

They kiss again and when they let go, her friends and his friends are around them, all looking just as happy as they were. No one, however, was as happy as Sarah Rogers when she found out that her precious son finally, _finally_ had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that she could cook with because God knows her son couldn't do it. And when Clint accidentally destroyed one of his mom's favorite vases, Steve spent two weeks in the ceramics room to help create a replica.

They were perfect for each other, but they were also perfect for each other's families. It's crazy how amazing things worked out.

**Author's Note:**

> perhaps i should never try another fluffy fic again? idk. fluff isn't really my thing but i wanted to try it out.
> 
> thank you for reading and i hope you guys enjoyed! please let me know what you think in the comments. i love all feedback i can get, positive or negative.
> 
> have a great day :)


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